


Go Eat Worms

by love_stella



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dylan's Adele Voice, Established Relationship, I am so sorry, Multi, This is 3k of crack, You know the goosebumps book go eat worms? it's that, but hockey-fied, worm boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_stella/pseuds/love_stella
Summary: “What the fuck? Dude your best friends dared me to eat the fucking worm. Two years ago,” Lawson says. “Why would worms be trying to kill us I didn’t even eat an earthworm.”“We know,” Nick says. “Believe me, I wasn’t even on that trip and I know exactly what went down, Dylan wouldn’t stop sending snaps about it all summer.”





	Go Eat Worms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LottieAnna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/gifts).



> IF YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW IS MENTIONED IN THIS FIC TURN BACK NOW AND SAVE US ALL SO MUCH EMBARRASSMENT 
> 
> Hi again Lotts i am So Sorry for this but worm boy got me inspired. I had entirely too much fun writing this I hope you like it. 
> 
> Thanks to A, A and N for letting me yell at them about this and E and C for looking it over.

“How the fuck did this happen?” Nick screams, the sound muffled by the worms quickly filling the room. 

“I don’t know,” Dylan shouts back, pulling worms out of his hair. “Crouser, what the actual fuck?” 

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything,” Lawson says. 

 

The thing is, Lawson  _ did _ do something, two years ago on a boat in the middle of the Everglades because his friends dared him to. 

Their tour guide shows them all the local wildlife, gators, iguanas, birds, plants, and...worms? 

“The bonnet worm will eat its way inside the plant and live right in here,” he says, pointing to the stem of the plant.

Mitch grabs the plant as soon as the guide shows the actual worm and shoves it in Connor’s face, and somehow it becomes a dare and Lawson’s the victim.

They pass him the worm, and Lawson can  _ feel _ the cameras on him before he even realizes that he might, in fact, eat a worm. 

“Eat it. Eat. it. Eat it,” Connor chants. 

“We all know you won’t do it, Law,” Mitch goads. 

“We’re all doubting you, you won’t do it,” someone, probably Mitch again, if Lawson had to guess, shouts from the other end of the boat, and he knows there’s no turning back now. He has to eat the worm, and that’s exactly what he does. 

“Ohhh that was so gross,” he hears Connor moan, which,  _ thanks _ , Lawson thinks,  _ I figured that out _ .  _ It’s ok, he just plays hockey, he doesn’t need to be smart.  _

Lawson flashes his tongue at the camera to prove that yes, he swallowed the worm, and someone announces to the rest of the boat that “He did it! He won 100 dollars!” And hey, that almost makes it worth it. 

\--

Lawson can honestly say that he hasn’t thought about the worm-eating incident in years, because if he thinks about it he’ll have to think about the fact that everywhere he goes, worms tend to follow. A lot of worms. 

Nothing too weird, just if he goes fishing with Travis, his cup of worms is always overflowing and he ends up giving most of them to his friend, or when he helps his mom with yard work over the summer he always ends up covered in soil and worms, but it’s all outside stuff. He never gives any of it a second thought. 

When he gets traded to the Coyotes, the only worms Lawson thinks about are the gummy worms that spell out “Congratulations” on the dirt cake that Max makes him when they find out he’s not getting sent back to Kingston. 

He doesn’t have to think about the worms that make their way out of the grass when it rains, doesn’t think  _ why are they looking at me _ when he carefully steps around them on the way to his car, and he certainly doesn’t think  _ what are the worms like in Tuscon _ when he gets sent down after more than a year in the NHL because he’s “just not producing enough” right now. 

\--

The best part of being sent down is that he gets to spend time with Dylan and Nick; everyone’s making a big deal about the Roadrunners’ top line being first round picks from the same year, and Lawson already knows Dylan really well, so it just makes sense that they hang out all the time. 

He’s not really sure when they became a thing, all he knows is that hanging out led to making out which led to spending the night and not leaving the next morning, and now they’re all attached at the hip. 

Dylan only brings up the worm incident once, when they’re practicing their golf swings in the backyard and unearth a mound of worms, shrieking “Hey Crouser, you hungry?” before Nick tackles Dylan to the ground and starts shoving grass in his face. 

Lawson doesn’t let himself give the mound of worms another thought, worms live in dirt, there’s a lot of dirt outside, it’s normal. 

\--

“Law what the fuck man?” Nick shouts. 

“Yeah man, this isn’t fucking cool,” Dylan says, pounding on the bathroom door when Lawson’s in the shower in their hotel room. Well, not  _ their _ hotel room, but they’ve gotten pretty good at bullying their road roomies into swapping.  

“What?” Lawson says over the stream of water. 

“You fucking put worms in the bed,” Dylan and Nick scream, which, what the fuck? It’s enough to get Lawson out of the shower; prank or not, he needs to see this. 

Lawson throws a towel around his waist and runs right into Dylan when he opens the door, and that’s when he sees it: there are worms in both beds, even the one they didn’t sleep in last night. Some are on the pillows but most of them are crawling around on the sheets, leaving little trails of dirt all over the white bedspread in their wake. 

“Ok guys, very funny, I didn’t know room service delivered worms,” Lawson says, because  _ he _ definitely didn’t do this. 

“We didn’t do it,” Dylan says. “You woke up before we did, you must have done it.” 

“I swear I didn’t do this,” Lawson says.

“Dude, if this is about the worm boy jokes last night, we’re sorry,” Nick says. 

“No, what? I don’t care about that shit, it’s just a lame chirp,” Lawson sighs. 

“Then what the fuck?” Dylan asks. 

“Let’s just call management and get a new room, this one’s disgusting,” Lawson says. “Who knew we’d have to deal with a worm problem in Texas. It’s too fucking hot.” 

Management swears that the hotel does not, in fact, have a worm problem, but they get a new room by the time they come back from the game and an  _ sincere _ apology in the form of free dinner. 

Now  _ that’s _ the last Lawson thinks about worms. 

\--

The last thing Lawson remembers before he falls asleep is Dylan and Nick stumbling into the house behind him and one of them muttering something about “When did you bring that planter closer to the door Law?” 

Lawson doesn’t think  _ there aren’t any planters by the door. I don’t own any planters _ , before pushing Nick onto the bed and curling up next to him and pulling the blanket up over them and holding it up so that Dylan can crawl in with them. 

It’s probably for the best that they just go to sleep, because going into the kitchen would mean  seeing the trails of dirt starting to build up on the counters, most likely coming in from the window above the sink.  

Lawson  _ really _ should have paid more attention. 

 

Lawson wakes up to Nick screaming his head off and Dylan hitting him with three pillows -what can he say, he sleeps like a log- 

“Law wake the fuck up,” Nick screams.

“‘S too early fuck off,” Lawson whines, because it is: there’s not even any light coming in through the blinds. 

“Dude get the fuck up right now,” Dylan yells, and _what the fuck_ _he didn’t have to dump water on me_ he thinks. 

“It’s not our fault you won’t get up,” Nick says, and ok, maybe Lawson said that out loud. 

It’s then Lawson sees it: the blinds aren’t keeping any light out, worms are. Hundreds of slimy, creepy-crawly worms. 

“Is this a joke? Because if it is, it’s not funny,” he says. 

“It’s not a joke, we swear,” Dylan and Nick say at the same time. 

“Ok, let’s just get out of here and we’ll figure it out later,” Lawson sighs. “It’s probably just someone dumping dirt over the fence and it landed on the window, it’s fine.” 

“...Yeah, probably,” Nick hesitates, “that makes sense. Worms don’t just crawl in formation like that.” 

“Yeah they’re not  Beyoncé, ” Dylan jokes. 

Lawson leads the way into the kitchen, and has to brace himself for Dylan and Nick slamming into him after he stops dead in his tracks. 

The worms aren’t just outside; they’re pouring out of the faucet and toppling out of the sink, crawling across the floor, they’ve busted open the refrigerator door, slipping through the crack underneath the back door, everywhere he looks: worms. 

Dylan almost slips on a pile hiding underneath the kitchen rug when he goes to get a closer look, and that’s enough to make Nick grab both of them and drag them out of the room. 

“Ok let’s just change so we can get out of here,” he says, and that sounds like a plan to Lawson, Nick always was the smart one. 

The three of them grab whatever clothes they can find, Lawson ends up in one of Dylan’s shirts and Nick’s sweats, Dylan manages to throw on one of Lawson’s shirts and his own jeans, and Nick grabs one of his own shirt and Lawson’s pants - _ think about this later, your boyfriends are wearing your clothes but now is not the time _ \- but by the time they get to the front door, worms have crawled all the way up the door, destroying the doorknob and sealing the lock from the outside. They can’t escape: the kitchen door is the only other way out, and the windows have also been sealed up  _ naturally _ . 

“Shit, let’s...the bathroom must be safe? We can call someone to get us out?” Nick says, more to himself than Dylan or Lawson, before grabbing their hands and dragging them into the bathroom. 

Or. To the bathroom door, because worms are coming out of  _ that _ sink, the dropping out of the shower head and oozing up through the bathtub drain and pouring out of the tub. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Lawson asks. 

“Let’s just… get back to the bedroom, there aren’t any sinks or shit where worms can crawl through,” Nick says. 

“Yeah, good idea,” Dylan says, already running down the hall. As soon as he and Nick get into the room, Dylan slams the door and shoves the nightstand against the door to keep the worms out. 

They forgot about the worms on the window, which suddenly burst through the glass and start falling into the room, and the nightstand was a good idea but it’s not actually doing anything to keep the worms from crawling under the crack in the door. 

Lawson pulls Nick and Dylan onto his bed, the worms keep coming and coming, and they’re already pissed off, so squishing them seems like a bad idea even if it  _ is _ Lawson’s first instinct. 

“How the fuck did this happen?” Nick screams, the sound muffled by the worms quickly filling the room. 

“I don’t know,” Dylan shouts back, pulling worms out of his hair. “Crouser, what the actual fuck?” 

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything,” Lawson says. 

“Is this because you ate a fucking worm? Law, I swear to fucking god if this is some sort of revenge curse I’m going to kill you,” Dylan screams. 

“What the fuck? Dude  _ your _ best friends dared me to eat the fucking worm. Two years ago,” Lawson says. “Why would worms be trying to kill us I didn’t even eat an earthworm.”

“We know,” Nick says. “Believe me, I wasn’t even on that trip and I know exactly what went down, Dylan wouldn’t stop sending snaps about it all summer.”

“He ate a worm. How am I not supposed to chirp him for it,” Dylan whines. “If I would have known this would happen I would have pushed Marns off the boat before he dared him to do it.”  

“Ok can we do this some other time? When worms aren’t trying to drown us?” Nick asks. 

“Yeah, how are we going to stop them?” Lawson says. “Stomping on them isn’t an option, and we can’t get them outside, there’s too many of them.”

“Can we sacrifice something to them? Would that work?” Dylan asks.

“What the fuck would man-eating worms accept as a sacrifice?” Lawson shouts, trying not to notice that the worms are almost high enough to reach them on the bed. 

“I don’t know? What’s really important to you?” Dylan asks. “Besides us, obviously.” 

“Wait, isn’t your first goal puck in your nightstand drawer?” Nick says, already planning a way to get to the nightstand. Pushing it against the door might have been a bad plan. “Ok Dylan you distract them and I’ll jump as far as I can, we can do this.”

“What? No way I’m letting you do that. This is my fault, I’ll jump,” Lawson says, because clearly, it  _ is _ his fault, and he’s not going to risk Nick getting hurt for something he did. “You both distract the worms on the count of three.”

_ Three. Two. One.  _

“HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIIIIIIDDEE. I MUST’VE CALLED A THOUSAND TIIIIMMMMMEEESSSS,” echos through the room, and surely enough, when Lawson risks a glance at the bed, Dylan’s scooped up a handful of worms and is screaming Adele at them. 

Nick is doing a terrible job distracting the worms, unless falling off the bed laughing his ass off is what he’s considering a distraction. Luckily the worms haven’t realized that he’s sinking into them, they’re too focused on the “show” that Dylan’s performing for them. That, or they’re paralyzed in fear. Either way, it’s working, and Lawson grabs the puck from the nightstand and leaps back onto the bed before they’ve realized he was in their grasp. 

“Ok now what do I do?” he screams.

“I dunno? Throw it at them?” Nick says, so Lawson closes his eyes and tosses the puck off into the sea of worms.

“I love you both,” Dylan cries, and pulls them both into a hug so they don’t have to watch the worms eat them if this doesn’t work. 

“Wait, guys, it’s working, look,” Nick says after a minute, which is enough to make Lawson dig his chin out of Dylan’s neck and  _ look _ . 

“Holy shit, they’re leaving,” Lawson whispers as the worms start pouring back  _ out _ of the window and  _ out  _ the door. 

“It worked?” Dylan wonders. 

“Thank fucking god,” Nick says, and Lawson’s thinking the same thing. 

“They ate my puck,” Lawson realizes once the worms are gone. 

“Aww babe, we’re sorry,” Dylan says. “We’ll get you a new one, a ‘your first NHL goal playing on a line with your boyfriends’ puck.”

“Promise?” Lawson and Nick ask at the same time.

“Promise. One for each of us, next season,” Dylan says, and worms or no worms, that deserves kisses. 

“Now how are we going to clean up this mess?” Nick asks, once they’ve come up for air.  

“That sounds like a problem for future us, we should cuddle more,” Dylan says, and Lawson can’t argue with that. 

“We’ve got to put something in front of the window, it’s still broken dumbass,” Nick gripes, so they use their collective manpower to push the dresser over to the window, it’s not a perfect fix but it covers at least part of the window, so it’s better than nothing. Dylan grabs a sheet and hangs it over the rest of the window, and he looks so proud of himself that Lawson can’t help but kiss his cheek before they crawl back into bed. 

“Maybe when we wake up this will all have been a nightmare,” Lawson says. 

 

It’s not a nightmare, judging by the trails of dirt all over the house, and the window is most certainly still broken because now there are leaves from Lawson’s neighbor’s tree on the dresser. 

“How the fuck are we going to explain this to the landlord?” Lawson asks as they’re mopping up the kitchen floor. 

“The window is easy: we were shooting pucks outside and Stromer’s got shit aim,” Nick jokes. “The damage to the faucets and the clogged drains are… sewer backup? Maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s believable. Dudes are messy,” Dylan says. “We’ll stay with you while you call him so you don’t chicken out and start muttering about worms.”

“It’ll be fine, Law,” Nick reassures him. 

Lawson spends more time psyching himself up to make the call than he spends on the phone, his landlord just needs to know what needs to be fixed and a promise that they didn’t break the law before muttering that he’ll send someone over to replace the window and unclog the drains as soon as he can. 

“You should probably stay with one of us until the window gets fixed,” Nick says. “Capo won’t mind if you crash with us.”

“Hey, I don’t want to be alone,” Dylan whines, pulling his best puppy dog eyes at his boyfriends. 

“Of course you can come Stromer,” Nick says. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You’re going to have to get rid of the plants on the balcony, I don’t want to risk any worms living in the soil,” Lawson cringes. 

“Deal. No more worms,” Nick agrees. 

 


End file.
